


Get Home Safe

by ketchupfromyoutube



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer - Freeform, 5 seconds of summer smut, Ashton Irwin - Freeform, Daddy Ashton, Dom Ashton, F/M, Phone Sex, ashton irwin smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3311774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupfromyoutube/pseuds/ketchupfromyoutube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Now princess, calm. Be calm..." He replied in a soothing voice, sensing the rabbiting of your heart miles and miles away. "Breathe, baby girl."</p><p>So you did, breathed. Casting a look towards the hallway of your bedroom and at his side of the closet. A hot lick of bravery shot up your legs, mixing into your thighs. "Daddy...." You breathed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Home Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote all in one go. Because CEO Ashton in an Armani suit is always right.

You just shut the dresser drawer. The cloud-like silk of your new panties pressed tight against your shower fresh skin. You were still a bit red from the hot water and the lotion buzzed the scent of vanilla. Ashton really didn't have to buy you all this the other day but-  
"I need to treat my baby girl like the princess she is." Ashton had told you after the pink tissue paper hit the duvet and you tried to protest. His palms found your jawline, fingers keeping your lips from saying more. "My lips", as Ashton referred to them. 

The high rise penthouse was quiet, as you were the only one home. It was Sunday night, close to 7:00, and pouring rain. Ashton was going to be home soon, driving back from the airport, a 2 week long business trip in Singapore.

And you hated that because those people in suits took your boyfriend's time. Took him away from you. They took his dirty blonde curls and saw them combed back and tamed. His body covered and wearing the Armani suit like it was made with his broad shoulders in mind. His strong hands that gave controlled and planned gestures to skillfully explain just how to get the deal done. Done perfectly, and in his way. And oh, his eyes, his burning hazel eyes that pierced them with the promise that they needed him. Said, straightforward and with no possible pretense: Success. 

You missed him, so much it made your skin feel tight and itch with the necessity to be grabbed. Clutched and pulled. Those hands pinning those Saint Laurent cuff links that should be gripping your waist. Fitting like the pinks curved into sticky orange of the sunset hanging over Manhattan. The cold buckle of his belt that had to be rubbing into your spine as you bent over. Needed it. All of it. All of him.   
It was torrential rain and....and Ashton was driving.  You needed him home and safe and you hated this worry. He was gone for 2 weeks and he was their's but he is yours. You picked up your phone and dialed before falling onto the sheets. Sheets that smelled like Tom Ford and Dior, like his skin and that meant home. If you could crawl into his chest and never leave that could work.   
It barely dialed twice before he answered.

"Love," was his simple answer. His deep, calm voice sparked at the source to light up and travel across the cities as live wire, electrifying every nerve you had. And you felt him everywhere, toes and fingertips and chest and eyes, knees and hips and fuck, underneath the silk. 

"Ash," you breathed into the phone, mouth wide open. No shame.

"My love," Ashton sighed. And you knew his knuckles were under his chin, driving one handed as he listened to your voice through the speakers of his Bentley. The charcoal one. The same one he fucked you with his fingers in on the night he told you he loved you. Just this phone call was getting you winded, thinking, thinking, thinking. 

"I miss you." You don't care that you sound lost and needy. You are. 

"And I you," he said. Controlled. Always controlled, except around you.   
His words ended there, so you fill the silence. 

"I wanted to know if you were close. It's, baby it's raining so hard and I need you home. Safe."  
Again, it's quiet. You can hear the rain hitting his car through the phone and the panicked drops of water are in time with your own anxiety. 

"Baby-" You start to say, to make sure he's still there. Maybe his reception was cutting out or something-

"I'm still here," Ashton sounded, cutting you off gently. You blink up at the ceiling and rest your hand on your bare stomach. "Okay," You say weakly, nodding fervently. Just need you baby. Need you....

"Princess," Ashton begins, and you absolutely light up at that, wiggling into sitting position and gasping almost inaudibly. Almost. 

"Now princess, calm. Be calm..." He replied in a soothing voice, sensing the rabbiting of your heart miles and miles away. "Breathe, baby girl."

So you did, breathed. Casting a look towards the hallway of your bedroom and at his side of the closet. A hot lick of bravery shot up your legs, mixing into your thighs. "Daddy...." You breathed.  
There was a sharp intake of breathe on the other line, then silence. Then the clearing of his throat.  
"Princess," Ashton muttered admonishingly. In that tone. The one that meant everything was perfect as long as you had each other. Each requiring the other to be driven insane. Getting off on it. 

"But Daddy, I miss you so much it's been so long and, and I haven't..."

"Haven't what, darling?" Ashton encourages softly, seeping into your stomach and twisting the want, cranking the dial to "desperation." He knows. Always knows you. 

"Haven't touched..." You answered reluctantly, allowing your voice to drop off before fully finishing your sentence. 

"Yourself, my girl? Haven't touched yourself?" Ash supplies politely.  
You nod, forgetting that he cannot in fact see you, before realizing and mumbling a noise that can be taken as a "yes."

"Oh, my gorgeous girl," Ashton sighed and chuckled faintly. You let out a whine just after, pulling a "tsk" from Ashton. 

"Kitten, don't whine." Ashton instructed. 

"Daddy, come home." You replied, getting up and padding over to his hanging shirts, fingers dragging across each one, savoring the feeling to your skin.   
"I'll get there when I get there," he said as you opened his drawer and yanked out a forest green sleep t-shirt. Pressed to your nose, you drank the scent from his shirt: his cologne and aftershave. His hair and his skin. 

"I can't wait much longer, Ash I-"

"What happened to Daddy, my love?" Ashton asked thoughtfully but with discipline. You stopped mid step, tripping a little. 

"Daddy, I'm...I'm sorry." He was going to play this game all night. Both of you were. 

"That's my girl. My good girl. So sweet. But so impatient, huh? Can't wait any more?" 

"Mmm, no," You said, biting your lip hard. He can tell by the way you sound because he's now saying,

"No biting, baby girl. Don't hurt yourself."

Your lip popped free from your canines, the canines Ashton so adored. He called you his pup. "I can't wait," You repeated, feeling pathetic but so alive.

"I know, shh...I know," Ashton said. "So why don't you go lay down in bed, beautiful, and do as I tell you?" 

Shivers run down your back and up to your bare chest. Heaving now.   
"Okay."

"Okay, what?" Ashton asks, voice and intentions clear.

"Okay, D-daddy."

"That's good. Now are you on the bed?" Ash asked as you sat yourself down on the fluffy black pillows and shook your hair back. "Mmhmm, I am, Daddy."

"Excellent, doing so well, kitten. Now, take your panties off. I know they're all you're in, you hate wearing those pj's, don't you princess?" 

"I hate it," You whisper and slide the silk down your legs, it pools around your ankles, the barely there fabric. 

"The baby blue ones I got you before I left?" He asks. You nod and remember to say "Yes, Daddy."

"Now love, keep me close as you take your free hand and reach down to your tits, okay?" Ashton tells you more than asks, accent lilting with seduction only he can have. Can ooze. 

You make a moaning sound deep in your throat as an answer, a conformation, and do as you are told. Silence save for the pattering of rain out the blinds covered windows. City lights blurry but shining through. It's dark in the room but not enough to hinder the sight of your body. Silence but for that. 

"Now play, kitten."

Your fingers swipe across your nipples, the silver studs cold and so good. Ashton clears his throat at the sound of your moans and speaks again after you get warmed up. "Lick your fingers and rub down to your belly button."

You have a few Van Gogh designs on your stomach from your saliva, subtly wet. Ashton told you to then spell out his name with your red lipstick across your navel. 

"Lower, lower..." he rasps. And you do. 

"Lick your fingers again, love, and pat your pretty little pussy," he tells you, a trace of something different in his voice. He must be close. Close to home, he's still on the road. Moving, moving, moving.  
Your warm fingers against your throbbing center makes you hiss and whimper. You let your noises drain straight into the phone, turning your head to feel the security of your boyfriend not too far away. Can't be. 

"That's it, baby girl. You're such a good girl for Daddy, you know that? I love you so much. Now rub your clit baby, run your little fingers up and down hard. Hard for me, yeah?" Ashton was rougher in his tone now, needing this more. As if he wasn't desperate for it all along. You knew he was, and that's what pushes your fingers against your soaking wet pussy and the gasp right up from your throat. Feels like it's from your heart. "Daddy!" 

"I know baby girl, it's so fucking good, huh? You know just what you need. You're such a perfect girl for me, I can't wait to get home and fuck you."

He's close. You feel it. Can feel it in your fingers through to your heat, down to your toes and in your skull. "Daddy, please get here, please," you're practically sobbing with how good this all feels, hips swiveling as you turn over and grind into the pillow. You catch Ashton's shirt in your line of vision across the bed and lunge for it. "I, I have your shirt Daddy, and I, I want to use it."

There's a beat of silence and you can just imagine it being filled with Ash gripping the wheel harder before he answers. 

"Use it baby, I'd love that." His voice his so rough. His shirt is so soft.

"Nngh," you let out in ecstasy as you bring the green shirt down to your pussy and rub. "Smells like you," You let him know.

"Baby, you're so amazing." Ashton sounds closer, like he pressed a button and is now on the phone. Walking up to you, you know it. The shirt is almost the perfect friction, but it's not Ash. Not his fingers or thigh or lips or cock.   
"Oh, Daddy, oh, fuck." Now you're close. 

You take the time you know he's taking in the elevator to grind and flex your calf muscles against the bed and flip over to breathe. You left yourself at the edge, not yet thrown over. Silence except the rain.

The door opens and closes. Keys are thrown somewhere hard. Then he's there in the doorway, tie loosened and button up sleeves bunched to his elbows. Hair neat but his fingers definitely ran through it. And his eyes, burning through you.

He speaks first because he's your Daddy and you're his princess.

"I'm so sorry I left you," Ashton says.

Your fingers drop the shirt and your hips are finally, fucking finally being held again, his lips on yours and your neck and your legs bracketing him tight. 

"It's okay Daddy, please-"

"Shh, princess, I've got you..."  
No silence. Heavy breathing and gasps and moans and rustling sheets and clothes being ripped absolutely apart. Rain and thrusts and screams and nails scraping his back. Hands against your ass and hips and his body is yours again. 

"Your mine again," you rush to get out as you steady yourself in his lap, grinding. Ash looks at you, into your eyes and somewhere in the flecks of dark green and blown out pupils a certainty washes over you both. 

"I always was, love."

And there is a storm that night, tossing and turning in the sheets. A lightning storm. And has he fucks you deep into the mattress several minutes later and the room is lit up by a strike from the sky, he kisses your neck and breathes into your skin. 

"Completely, baby."

"What?" You asked as you knotted your fingers into his sweat drenched curls. 

"Completely yours, baby girl. I'm completely yours. Forever." 

You know this is true, always did. But something about the way his promise curves into the air as the thunder and strike of electricity enters the atmosphere outside makes you know in your soul and bones, right here and now, that yes, forever.  
Because nothing this electrifying can be temporary.

Ashton gets home safe, and so do you. 


End file.
